To Those I Have Left
by mediahybrid117
Summary: I'm going for a somewhat realistic take on some of the concepts of Minecraft. This long series will have blood and curses, be aware. BEING REWRITTEN.
1. Withered Villager

*This was meant to be something completely different, but since my 'ficsona' has a creeper face on her tail, I might as well actually post a Minecraft fic on here. I'm going as realistic as I can while staying true to what's actually in the game as of the 1.11.2 update.*

 _To those I have left..._

 _There's a double meaning there... I don't think I can forgive myself for what happened... The latest episode of the Adventures of Dumbass was a tragic one... This is the last time I'm ever going to let my curiosity and my cursed Crepian* luck get anyone else hurt. It gave Haus a concussion... Leslie got hurt and disowned by her tribe... its gotten everyone put in danger when I fell into that End portal..._

 _And now... Leslie and Haus had fallen into the void and they're never coming back. I lost girlfriend and my brother... because I did something stupid... again... and that's something I can never, ever fix... or redo. It was all my fault. Nobody can tell me otherwise, because I know who and what I am. I know the things I'm capable of..._

 _I've woken up from that coma inspired... After all the stupid shit I've been through, some things... Don't catch my attention anymore. I've been an idiot... I need to change myself and change the way people view me..._

 _And this is where the double meaning is... by the time you guys read this, I'm probably going to be long gone... I can't stay in this village, everyone knows me... nobody will ever take me seriously, no matter how much I try and convince them..._

 _Ender, ask Widow to marry you already. She's given you hints so obvious even Ace caught on. She's perfect for you and Cavern already adores you. I love you, Father, thanks for everything._

 _Widow, take care of Ender for me. Everyone, take care of yourselves...And don't come after me._

 _-Cephore_

The teen sat on a grassy ledge near the water remembering the letter he'd written a year ago. He figured Ender was probably furious at him for just leaving like that. Especially since his wounds hadn't recovered at all.

Ender was always strict. He always claimed that it was for his well-being and that he just wanted to make sure he was taken care of.

Cephore had plenty of time to reflect on everything. Ender was right. He may have been strict, but it was because Cephore was so stubborn and persistent that Ender just threw his long, lanky arms into the air and said, "Fine, do whatever you want. We'll see how long you last."

Cephore chuckled to himself, "Man, I was such a jerk..." he sighed and reeled in the fishing line he had cast, sending it back out in hopes of actually catching something. "Such an idiot..." he muttered. His stomach growled, "I know, buddy..." he replied, "Just one fish..."

The rod tugged and he got to work, gently yanking the fishing pole back to make sure the fish was hooked. Once the line gave resistance, he began reeling it in, struggling against the water creature.

The line snapped and the pole whipped back and lashed him in the face. He groaned and dropped the rod, holding his reddened face. "Damn it!" he growled and threw a rock into the water, "Stupid fish!" he cursed, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Screw this, I'll just check the village I passed a couple days ago." He announced to no one in particular. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder and walked past the small shack he had built himself a month or so ago. He stepped around a pile of bones that was once the skeleton that had attacked him the night before, and carefully avoided stepping on the remains of the Creeper that almost blew him up earlier that morning, taking a mental note that he needed to clean up when he returned. He was sure to equip himself before walking through the birch forest, knowing of the possibilities awaiting him.

Ahead of him, he heard the squeaking of a rabbit, before seeing a flash of yellow-brown dart in front of his feet, a streak of white and grey in close pursuit. The rabbit jumped into a small pit that it must've mistaken for it's burrow, instead it trapped itself. Cephore was thankful that a few small bushes blocked his view as the wolf chasing it dove after and began his feast. He pitied the rabbit, but if he was really honest with himself, he envied the wolf more.

He continued his walk without much trouble, even for a swamp normally infested with slimes and witches. However it wasn't until he reached the edge of the swamp where the grass changed color and the water became clearer where he found a body.

He stared for a while, unsure whether to tell if he was dead or not. He knelt by and turned the lifeless male to his side, so he'd be able to see his face, "S-sir...?" he yelped and jumped back, the corpse's eyes had either rolled back, or turned completely white. "This guy's been here a while..." he said and studied him for a while, his skin was shriveled, but he didn't seem to be rotting.

Cephore sighed and sat back on his knees, "Weird..." he rested his hands on his lap.

The corpse's hand sprung up and gripped Cephore's wrist tightly, wheezing loudly as his eyes rolled back to focus, "The Wither..."Cephore screamed and jumped higher than he would ever dignify himself to admit.

The seemingly dead villager gasped again, "Don't... The Wither..." he trembled and dropped his hand, gasping as he breathed.

Cephore took a deep breath to calm himself, "Okay, okay," he laid the villager completely onto his back and made him look him in the eye, "What happened?" he asked him.

The villager's eyes were tired, unfocused and partially rolling back again, "The Wither..." he rasped.

Cephore sighed, "Okay..." he carefully pried his arm under the villager's neck and scooped up his legs, "I'm going to take you home and get you taken care of..." he said, "Just stay with me..." he said.

"Don't..." the villager rolled his head side to side, "I don't... have a chance..." he breathed.

"Everyone's got a chance." Cephore mentally counted down from three and picked up the villager, personally surprised and concerned as to how light he was, "I'm here to give you yours."

The villager managed a small smile, "Thank you, sir..." he whispered.

"No problem." Cephore smiled. He carefully chose the most level path he could take before reaching his shack and setting the villager on his bed. The first thing he did was find an empty bottle and fill it with clean water. He quickly rushed back to the villager's side, "Here, drink..." he propped the villager's head up and held the bottle to his mouth. "It'll help." he urged.

The villager didn't respond. Cephore gently shook him, "Hey, I need you to stay awake!"

The villager weakly opened his green eyes, grunting in response.

"Here, drink this. It's water." Cephore tipped the bottle against the villager's mouth, letting a little bit of water flow.

The villager swallowed twice, drinking two large gulps of water, but stopped, letting some water trail from the corners of his mouth. He coughed, causing Cephore to pull back and set the bottle down, "Don't push yourself..." he carefully sat him up, "We need to get you cleaned up..." he said.

The villager wobbled and panted, leaning to the side against Cephore's chest. "They're all gone..." he whimpered quietly, "The village... my brothers..." he panted, "All of them..." he took in a shaky breath, "I'm so scared..." he sobbed quietly, "It happened so fast..." he gasped.

Cephore looked down and put his arms around the villager. "I'm sorry..." he said, "Look, don't push yourself, okay? Lie down." he carefully laid the villager back down, "What's your name?" he asked, "My name is Cephore Palman." he offered a warm smile.

"Ezekiel." he sniffled and gasped, "Just Ezekiel."

"Ezekiel." Cephore smiled, "Okay, try and get some rest. I'm going to collect some stuff for food, okay?"

Ezekiel nodded, "Thank you, Cephore..."

Cephore stood up and stepped outside, "Think I saw some mushrooms over here somewhere..." he trotted to a small group of spruce trees, kneeling to pick up a handful of mushrooms, "These are good to eat..." he muttered to himself, the then stood back up and tucked the mushrooms in an open space in his bag. His stomach growled loudly, causing him to pause. He looked around for something to hunt.

A small group of chickens stood not too far from him, "Perfect..." he drew his stone sword and crept towards them. He didn't know where they came from, he didn't care about where they came from, but he knew they were his. He lunged forward and swung sideways, missing completely. "Shit-" he frantically swung in the other direction, catching two of them at the neck and beheading both. The other two chickens fluttered off in a fearful frenzy as he collected the bodies of the two he had killed.

Ezekiel began to stir when he smelled food cooking beside him. He forced his eyes open and tried to muster the energy to turn his head, but he gave up due to the lack of motivation.

Cephore glanced over, "I hope you don't mind mushrooms." he said. "Or chicken." He sat on a small makeshift bench in front of the furnace, poking at the cooking chicken with a stick.

"I will eat anything..." Ezekiel whispered.

"Great." Cephore smiled. "I'm just gonna have chicken." he commented, "I can't stand mushrooms..."

Ezekiel huffed quietly as though he tried laughing. "Mushrooms..." he slurred.

Cephore poured some warm mushroom stew into a bowl, "Alright, it's ready..." he knelt by Ezekiel's side and carefully propped up his head. "I need you to try to eat this, okay?" he tipped the bowl to Ezekiel's grey lips and let the soup flow into his mouth.

Fortunately, he did take the soup, and about half of the bowl was consumed before he coughed and spilled it onto himself.

"Sorry, was that too fast?" Cephore set the bowl down and help the villager sit upright.

Ezekiel smiled and shook his head, "It is okay." he leaned his head back, "I grew tired again..."Cephore laid him back down and used a rag he had set aside to clean the spilled soup. "Did it taste okay?" he asked. "Anything I should change? I normally don't cook."

"Add a little milk..." he suggested, his eyes drifting shut. "And it would have been perfect..."Cephore nodded, watching Ezekiel fall back asleep. He put the contents of the bowl back in the pot and stood up, leaving with a bucket, "Now to find a cow..." he mumbled and walked off.

*A Crepian is a race, that is based off a Creeper. Boyo, this damn chapter took way more time than you guys would think. I typed it out on my phone on the mobile app, but the thing came out in Docx format, plus I can't upload from my phone, I gotta hop on the computer and upload it from there, Well, I did! And I tried! But the thing is- The docx format looked terrible and skipped out some of the lines. So I had to put it on MS Word, edit there, paste it here on crappy internet, and _then_ upload it on this site _all_ while using my phone (which is out of high speed data BTW) as a hotspot to hook up my laptop. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this little tidbit of Minecraft that I _f_ _inally_ decided to write. I just won't make the mistake again of setting the format to docx and leave it on story... Leave a review and lemme know what you think! Stay awesome!*


	2. Keeping Him Alive

Cephore set the full bucket on a ledge and climbed down, hoping to not accidentally spill any of the contents. He was almost home and the sky was getting dark, unnerving him and causing him to worry about leaving Ezekiel at home alone. "Better hurry up..." he muttered. His front door wasn't the sturdiest thing in the world, so zombies could easily knock it down.

Cephore shook his head, hopefully the zombies would ignore Ezekiel due to the fact that he already looked like one. He looked up across the lake and saw the faint glow from the torch mounted above the door of his sub-terranean shack of a home. He sighed in relief, seeing that nothing was banging on his door... yet. He picked up the bucket of milk and began quickly and carefully trotting toward the light. Around him, he heard faint rattling- the uneasy clacking of a nearby skeleton archer. He kept his head low and picked up the pace. The milk began to slosh around in the bucket, spilling down the sides. He was closer to his door now. His heart pounding in his ears, his breaths heavy and giving away his location and his back aching from hunching over. As he climbed over the final hill, his heart sank into his stomach as he heard several hands slamming against his door, cries of the undead howled and moaned, begging to be let into the shack for the shriveled and dying villager inside.

Cephore set the bucket down and drew an iron blade, creeping around the corner to see four zombies trying to maul his door. Casting aside any thoughts of preexisting danger, he ran out into the open and screamed, swinging the blade and beheading only one, but lodging his blade into the head of another.

The remaining two turned and looked at him blankly, then they snarled as they reached for him. Cephore pulled at the sword, trying to retrieve it without the head of teeth attached to the other end. As the remaining two zombies drew close, Cephore brought up a foot and planted it square into the chest of the creature that held his weapon hostage, the sword was freed, and the now fully dead zombie fell back, crashing into the door behind him.

Cephore ducked under the reaches of the two zombies and swung upward, gutting one of the zombies from his stomach to his jaw. He then spun around and kicked backwards into the zombie's face, knocking his head backwards and slamming into a stone wall. Cephore took a few deep breaths and straightened up. He sheathed the sword and looked around for anything else looking forward to spilling his blood. With a huff of relief, he went to retrieve the bucket. With the milk in hand, he was finally able to make it over to the door. After stepping over the zombie bodies, he pushed the door open with ease, only the have it fall apart in his hand. He rolled his eyes and set the bucket down on top of the crafting table.

Ezekiel laid peacefully on the bed at the far side of the room, completely unaware of everything that had just happened outside. Cephore sighed and picked up the pieces of the door that had fallen at his feet and on top of a zombie corpse. As he picked up the last piece of the door, the zombie that had the sword lodged into his head, dressed in a blue-green shirt and jeans, brunette with dead blue eyes, made Cephore pause and stare for a moment on horror.

Flashbacks cluttered his mind, a zombie dressed the same way stood by his side, either with a long stick or a handful of mushrooms. A zombie that struggled to function, a zombie who relearned to speak (albeit slowly and great difficulty), a zombie who was there whenever Cephore needed a friend. A person that everyone had seen as a monster. His best friend. His brother in bond. Cadbury Tombstone.

Cephore gasped and choked up for a moment, seeing the gash that gouged halfway through the zombie's skull, "Cad...?" he called out weakly.

Then Cephore blinked, taking a deep breath, Cad wouldn't beat down a door. He was more civilized than that. Cephore sighed, Cad had red eyes, not blue.

This wasn't Cad.

Cephore straightened up and picked up the remaining pieces of the door, stepping around the 'Cad' impostor.

After throwing the pieces out the door and shoving the bodies away from the shack, Cephore sighed and rested his eyes on the pile of scrap wood that he had sitting against the wall. The pile alone was larger than the shack. He then looked over at the hill beside the shack and had a vision of a birch house overlooking the lake. He smiled and found himself a new project.

For now it'd be wise to just settle with a new, temporary door for the shack and to go inside and wait until morning.

He dug himself a small pit in the side wall for a temporary place to sleep until he was able to make a second bed. While he laid in the small pit, he watched Ezekiel as he slept. He tried to figure out how old he was. Not too old, he figured. But considering his facial features, not too young either. Certainly older than twenty. Mid-thirties possibly.

Wait... was Ezekiel even asleep?

Cephore sat up and studied him, watching for any movement. "Ezekiel?" he called.

Silence. Not even a twitch.

Cephore stepped over and pat his shoulder, "Ezekiel? Hey, you alright?" he asked.

Ezekiel gasped heavily, as though he'd been holding his breath. His eyes opened, but appeared vacant.

Cephore let out a breath of relief, "Thank Notch... You scared me..." he said.

Ezekiel's eyes drifted shut, "Apologies..."

Cephore shook his head, "No, don't apologize, it's okay." he smiled, "Uh... You should probably eat some more." he said. "I got the milk. Let me just mix it in, okay?"

"Sounds good..."

Cephore dumped the bucket of milk into the cauldron of simmering mushroom soup and stirred it in. The soup looked a little thinner, a little more edible. Cephore was glad Ezekiel didn't mind mushrooms, at least the creamy brown concoction would get eaten and not go to waste. "Still awake?"

Ezekiel mumbled something unintelligible.

Cephore nodded and filled the bowl and sat by his side, "Ezekiel, come on..." he propped his head up in the bend of his elbow, "You have to eat..." he held the bowl to his lips.

Ezekiel hadn't responded and his breathing was too faint.

Cephore shook his head and set the bowl down. He reached up and felt Ezekiel's forehead. "Man, you're cold..." he muttered and pulled the blanket over him. "Hey- wake up!"

Ezekiel didn't flinch, but he barely forced his eyes open.

"Hey, you need to eat this." Cephore picked the bowl back up, he paused seeing the withering villager's eyes drifting shut. "Hey! Can you hear me?"

The emerald eyes reopened and traveled to meet Cephore's inverted red eyes. "So tired..." he whispered.

"I know, Zeke, I know, but I need you to eat this so you can get better." Cephore took the bowl and held it to Ezekiel's mouth. "Here..." he tipped it and let Ezekiel drink only a small amount of the soup. As soon as Ezekiel stopped drinking and his eyes shut again, Cephore tipped the bowl back to make sure it didn't spill.

"S'tired..." he mumbled again.

Cephore sighed and set the bowl down. "You can't eat any more?" he asked

"No..."

Cephore nodded and carefully laid Ezekiel back down. "Get some rest then..." he said and felt Ezekiel's forehead again, "I'm going to turn the furnace towards you so you can warm up, okay?" he offered, "You're really cold." he grunted as he began turning the stone furnace to to face the villager.

Ezekiel was asleep before Cephore was finished.

Cephore brushed his blonde hair back and sighed, one hand resting on his hip. Peace had finally settled around him and the shack. Silence that was only cut by the rippling water outside flooded the air. Cephore's body began to ache. His feet burned, his shoulders were tensed, his eyelids began to sting and he was beginning to yawn.

He dropped his hand to his side, "Yeah... definitely time for bed..." he breathed and sat back into the pit in the wall. He lifted his left foot onto his knee and pried his boot off, sighing in relief and rotating his ankle. He dropped that leg back down and did the same with his right. After tossing his boots toward the door, he laid back and sighed. His back popped in several places as he settled himself. The pit in the wall wasn't comfortable in the least, but it was only temporary until he made himself a new bed.

No matter.

He was asleep just about instantly anyway.

 _"Ender! Ender, help!" Cephore screamed, having cornered himself between a large tree and a cliffside. His sword had snapped and he had run out of arrows. Three zombies and a skeleton kept him cornered._

 _His heart pounded in his throat and his blood was running cold for about five minutes when he was first getting chased._

 _One of the zombies clawed at his green trenchcoat and another gripped his throat, nails digging at the sides of his neck as they pressed him against the wall. The third zombie was wrestling the zombie gripping his coat._

 _The skeleton drew back an arrow and aimed for his head._

 _A boulder from overhead dropped down and crashed down on top of the commotion, sending dirt, rotten flesh and bones in every direction. Only Cephore and a zombie and a half were spared. A new zombie dropped down afterwards. The new zombie clumsily -but quickly- tore the other zombies away from Cephore, standing between them. He growled lowly and shoved them against the boulder._

 _Cephore coughed and looked up at the zombie in horror. The zombie turned his head to look at him, staggering as he did so. "Run..."_ _he gurgled._

Cephore's eyes opened wide at the sound of the zombie's voice. He hadn't thought about the night he met Cad in a long time. He took a deep breath a sat up, looking over at Ezekiel, who -unsurprisingly- hasn't moved at all. He took a deep breath and sat up, cracking his back and stretching. He leaned over to look at the door, seeing a clear blue sky on the outside of the window. "Oh good, I woke up on time for once." he muttered to himself.

"Morning..." a quiet voice greeted him.

Cephore looked back at Ezekiel, "Hey, you're up." he smiled, "Before me, even, I'm impressed."

Ezekiel cracked a small smile, "I've been awake for a while now..." he said softly. "Thought I heard someone calling for help."

So... yeah. These chapters will be short. But I hope they're somewhat enjoyable. I'm doing whatever will fit on these via mobile app and running with that since I write these while on break at work. So... read and review! Stay awesome folks*


	3. Starting the Project

Cephore was silent, absent-mindedly stirring the cauldron of mushroom stew and leaving Ezekiel's comment in the air- _I heard someone calling for help._

"Something the matter...?"

Cephore shook his head and served up the bowl, "Nothing... just uh-" he took a deep breath, "I had a rough dream last night... and I have a tendency of talking in my sleep."

Ezekiel managed a small nod.

Cephore sat beside him and held the bowl, "Breakfast?"

"Yes please." Ezekiel smiled sleepily, he tried lifting his head up, having no success.

"Easy, don't hurt yourself." Cephore lifted his head in the same manner as before.

Ezekiel panted, his eyes squinted shut, "I feel like such a burden..." he panted.

Cephore scoffed, "Just eat the soup." he said and fed Ezekiel the soup. To his relief, Ezekiel was able to eat a little more soup this time around. Not too much, but noticibly more. "You're not a burden." Cephore said, "You needed the help. I don't know how long you were laying there in that swamp, but any longer and you'd be dead." he held the bowl to the side after Ezekiel was done eating.

Ezekiel nodded, his eyes were partially open, "And I am in debt to you. If there is anything I can do to repay you, please let me know."

Cephore shook his head, "Just get better, okay?" he said, "That's all I want."

"I insist-"

"No- I insist." Cephore cut him off. "I usually used to expect something out of helping somebody." he confessed. "But... now... I just don't... I wanna help somebody, just to help." he rested the bowl on his leg, lowering Ezekiel's head. "It's a better feeling."

Ezekiel gave him a smile, the strongest he'd seen from the villager yet. "If you insist..." he said. "That's very charitable of you..." he closed his eyes.

Cephore turned a little red at the compliment. Ender would've been proud. "You going back to sleep?"

"Maybe..." Ezekiel breathed. "I'm still very tired. But... fortunately not as tired as before."

"Good." Cephore nodded. He was doing something right. "Try to have a little more soup first, okay?"

Ezekiel nodded and opened his eyes. "Yes, please." he agreed, "It's very good, the milk was a refreshing touch."

Cephore sat him up a little, "I'm glad you liked it." he brought the soup to him.

Ezekiel shakily lifted his arms to take the bowl, but didn't make it too far. While he drank some of the soup however, he was able to hold his arms up just above waist level, but not much higher.

Cephore saw this and smiled, thinking it a miracle. A grunt from the villager prompted him to lower the bowl and laid him back down. The bowl was nearly empty. "You almost finished the bowl." he praised him. "You're doing a lot better."

Ezekiel smiled again, "Thank you again, Cephore..."

Cephore stood up and set the bowl aside after pouring the remainder back into the cauldron. "I'm going to start building a house..." he declared. "So I'll be outside for a while."

"Sounds lovely..." Ezekiel mumbled, "Be careful out there..."

Cephore nodded and stepped outside. He took another look at the hill, cringing at the appearance as it was littered with dead grass, bones and a zombie carcass here and there. There was a small cavern peeking behind a few stones and under a dirt overhang covered in grass.

Cephore cocked his head to the side and approached the cavern, finding it wasn't very deep, but it did have a small pool of water inside that could be used as a bath. "Oh..." he straightened up and pondered the possibilities. "Okay..." he hummed and looked around. What he had envisioned in the cold, dark, filthy cavern, was a well lit bath house he could build the house around. He turned around and looked at the distance between the cavern and the shore, "I could even build part of the house here..." he hummed to himself. He smiled and clapped his hands, "Alright." he rubbed his hands together. He stepped out of the cavern and began cleaning up the area- disposing of the zombie bodies, collecting the bones and putting them away in a chest and scraping away handfuls of dead grass.

Afterwards, he dug away some of the dirt and marked and area for the foundation with a handful of sticks and torches. Each stick stuck straight out of the ground about three feet away from each other.

He stood back and studied the foundation, nodding in approval. Then he took his pickaxe and began chipping away at the inside of the cavern, squaring off the walks and corners. He lit a torch and mounted it on the wall, lighting up the bath house in the making. The walls were looking... better?

Rocks and swirls of granite and andesite still stuck out in jagged formations. He smirked, already thinking of a use for the andesite and granite.

He set aside the chunks of granite and andesite as he broke them apart. The floor was eventually flattened out, the walls were straightened out, and about half of the ceiling was almost perfectly level. As he was coming back to the front of the cavern, Cephore swung his shovel above his head and prepared to hit some of the dirt overhead. He chipped the dirt with the spade, but slipped. He grunted and tries it again, having better luck, but better than he wanted. The dirt overhead collapsed and piled on top of him, burying him completely after a short, sudden yelp.

Silence followed.

Suddenly a muffled scream rumbled from under the pile of dirt. The pile wriggled and shifted violently before a hand shot out, followed by a gasping, shouting, and very dirty Crepian clawing his way out to the surface. He laid on the pile and panted. "Okay..." he coughed, "Okay..." he exhaled, "Okay..."

He laid there for longer than he had planned. He eventually clawed the rest of his way out of the pile and shook off whatever dirt that he could. He shifted uncomfortably trying to shake out what he could from his unmentionable areas, "Shit..." he squirmed, "Damn it..." he whined before finally taking off his coat and pulling off his undershirt. Tattoos littered his upper arms and scars covered his back, stomach, and chest.

The largest was still a medium red- a wound that hadn't fully healed yet. It was two rows of smaller wounds in a 'u' shape, arching across his chest and across his stomach. His back mirrored the same pattern.

Anyone who saw the scar would easily put together that he was bit by something big.

Cephore hissed in pain as he wiped off whatever dirt had clung to his chest and back. He shook his head and brushed out what he could. Snorting on occasion to blow away anything that kicked up. "Ah-ahh..." he shuddered at the sensation if sand scraping at every crevice. In response, he jumped in place, having no luck with anything else. He glanced over at the water, seeing it was still clear and that the dirt didn't collapse into the water. "Fuck it." he completely undressed, shook out his clothes and jumped into the water. "About time for a bath anyways..." he muttered and brushed his hair back. He splashed the water onto his upper arms and cleaned them off, studying for the thousandth time the tattoos that covered them. His left arm had cresants swirling around the upper half of his bicep and bringing the focus to a large cresants on the ball of his shoulder. His right arm had a row of six creeper faces, one upside-down, the next right-side up, and so on until it cuffed around his arm. Both in pitch black ink.

He grew tense by looking at them, having flashbacks of being held down while his smoked-mushroom addict of a first-adoptive father jabbed the needle into his arm and forced the ink into his skin. A four or five year old should have never been through something like that. He growled and closed his eyes, thankful he had finally worked up the courage to run away.

Cephore sighed, at least he found Ender afterwards. It was all in the past. "It's no use to get mad now..." he said. "Happened fifteen years ago anyway..." he finished washing off and got dried before getting dressed again.

Normally Cephore would have picked up a rock and thrown it against the wall, shouting obscenities. Taking a deep breath and reacting the way he did would normally rise concern in his friends.

He approached the offending pile of dirt and stared at it with his hands on his hips. "My shovel is still under there..." he sighed. He shook his head, "I'll dig for that later..." he stepped outside of the cavern and started putting together the framework for the house. He started out framing a kitchen and entryway, eventually climbing up to a second story.

This took the better part of the afternoon and the sky began to darken. Cephore took a few steps back and took in the progress. The skeleton of the house stretched up and partially over the hill, having the floor of the second level double as the ceiling for the bathhouse. He smiled at the progress and started back for the shack.

He opened a chest and dug around the pouches of dye and seeds for even _something_ to nibble on. Refusing to pull out another bowl for some mushroom soup.

"Everything alright?" Ezekiel's soft voice asked.

"Looking for food." Cephore mumbled, not looking up.

Ezekiel nodded slightly with his head barely turned to face him, "Why not share some soup?" he asked.

"I can't stomach mushrooms." he replied.

"I see..."

Cephore sighed and sat back, "Hungry?" he asked.

"I am getting there..." Ezekiel nodded, "How goes the house-building?" he asked.

Cephore took the bowl and filled it with the soup, "Going good." he answered and waddled to Ezekiel's side, "I found a small cavern we could use as a bathhouse." he propped up Ezekiel.

"That sounds wonderful." Ezekiel smiled, lifting his arms again and actually helping guide the bowl to his mouth.

"You're getting your strength back." Cephore smiled. "Pretty quickly, I'd say."

Ezekiel hummed before guiding the bowl away, "Thank Notch..." he smiled, "I normally don't recover this quickly from anything." he said, his arms shook as he tried the bowl again.

"Zeke, relax." Cephore urged, bringing the bowl back to him. "Your strength may be coming back, but you're still weak." he said, "Keep resting up, okay?"

Ezekiel nodded, "Alright, Cephore... But you should too." he insisted.

Yep, that's all the stream I had for this chapter. I'd continue, but I'd be pulling parts I need for the next chapter. I also have a very short attention span and can jump focus very quickly and think about literally anything else. No joke. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, leave a review and let me know what you think. Stay awesome, folks!*


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